


The Drawer

by Beautiful Chaos (Venkaskribbles)



Category: Arrow - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2030529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venkaskribbles/pseuds/Beautiful%20Chaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I promise I won’t be invading your house in the middle of the night enough to warrant needing a drawer Felicity.” He gave her a sideways glance as she set the dryer and turned it on. At his words, she turned and leaned back against the now humming machine, an odd expression on her face. She looked..upset?  “Don’t promise that.” Her voice was stern and sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Drawer

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for the last Fanfiction challenge for the Olicity Hiatus Project on tumblr. The challenge was "Love Tropes". I own nothing!

The first time it happened was a few days after they had retuned from Lian Yu. Felicity was curled up in bed when a strong knock at her door woke her from a deep sleep. Confused, she squinted and looked at the clock.

03:00  
  
“Wha?” Annoyed, she grabbed her glasses and the collapsable asp that Diggle had given her heading downstairs. Half-way down the stairs she paused, listening. Finding that the porch was silent, she realizing that there was a complete torrential downpour going on out there. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she stood a bit back from the door, hand gripped tightly on the asp.  
  
“Who is it?” She called out loudly to be heard over the rain.  
  
“Felicity? Its…its me.” Came Oliver’s familiar voice from the other side of the sturdy wooden door. Surprised, she quickly set the asp down on the entry table and moved to unlock the door. Yanking it open, she found a completely soaked Oliver Queen standing in the soft light of her porch. It was still early spring, and the cold air flooded the entryway made her shiver involuntarily in her thin cotton pjs.  
  
“God…Oliver, you are soaked! Jeeze…” Without thinking she grabbed the edges of his brown jacked and tugged him into her house, closing the door behind him and locking it. Moving to stand in front of him, the freezing puddle of water seeping under her bare feet jolting her fully into consciousness. She looked over him quickly, the the tense set of his shoulders and pressed line of his mouth…something was wrong… 

“I’m sorry…I just…your phone was off and I..” He began, his voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the downpour outside. She stepped closer to him, seeing now that his whole body was shaking, just barely perceivable in the darkness of her entryway. She frowned, pressing her hand to his soaked chest.  
  
“No, its ok…don’t worry about it. What’s wrong?” She asked, wrapping her arms around herself when she shivered involuntarily. He opened his mouth to say something, but sound caught in his throat. Instead, his hand reached up and unexpectedly pushed back her sleep mussed hair. Felicity froze at the unexpected gesture, and felt as calloused fingers gently traced a line across her throat.  
  
She knew then.  
  
There was a hairline scar beneath his fingers. It was where Slade’s sword had just barely sliced through the top layers of her skin. It would fade away to nothing in a year, but….She reached up and wrapped her warm hand around his rain frozen fingers. She pressed them to the pulse in her throat, strong and steady.  
  
“Nightmare?” She asked quietly. His shoulders sagged a bit then, perhaps relived that he didn’t have to explain. He hadn’t been able to reach her when he had awoken in a sheen of cold sweat, alone with nothing but the false memory of her blood seeping out…unstoppable between his fingers.  
  
A long moment passed as he silently stood there, allowing himself the luxury of being able to touch her, feeling her lifebeat strong and alive underneath his fingers. Trying to undo the horror his subconscious had forced upon him.  
  
Squeezing his fingers one more time, she stepped closer into his space and reached up to unzip his jacket. The nurturing part of her not able to handle the shivering mass of hurting friend who was turning her entry way into a small pond any more.  
  
“You are staying here tonight, and don’t even try to argue. You are soaked to the bone and just looking at you is giving  _me_  hypothermia.” Despite himself a small smile peaked at the corner of his mouth. He was too tired, in every sense of the word to fight her. Leading him to the laundry room, she quietly issued orders that he found himself following without comment. Tossing his jacket and shirt into the dryer, she pulled out a old oversized MIT hoodie from a pile of folded clothes and handed it too him with an apologetic smile.  
  
“This is about the only thing I can offer you…although thankfully it looks like your pants didn’t get too wet, otherwise this was about to get a bit more awkward….” she smiled and bit her lip, looking away. “For me…at any rate. We should get you a drawer.”  
  
A small laugh escaped him as he pulled the hoodie over his head. It was well worn and soft, and thankfully fit.  
  
“I promise I won’t be invading your house in the middle of the night enough to warrant needing a drawer Felicity.” He gave her a sideways glance as she set the dryer and turned it on. At his words, she turned and leaned back against the now humming machine, an odd expression on her face. She looked..upset?  
  
“Don’t promise that.” Her voice was stern and sad. She sighed and took his hand again, leading him into the kitchen. Pressing him down into a chair, she moved to fill a blue kettle that was labeled “police box” with water, turning on the hob to boil water. That done, she leaned against the counter and looked at him for a moment. He just watched her, unsure of her mood.  
  
“Don’t promise that you won’t bother me.” She expanded. At his confused look, she sighed. “Its ok to need us Oliver. Me and Digg…what happened this year…its not nothing. And its ok to be scared. Its ok, to  _NOT_  be ok.” She smiled and moved to stand closer to him the outside edge of her leg pressing against his knee. Without thinking his hand moved to rest there, on the back of her knee as he looked up at her. Smiling, she took the kitchen towel she had tossed over her shoulder and covered his wet cropped hair with it. With a exasperated sigh and a laugh she began to dry his hair, he was such a mess.  
  
He leaned against her hands, surrendering to her ministrations. It had been so long since he had let anyone really take care of him…  
  
With a small sound he leaned forward further, resting the top of his head against her belly, his other hand moving to secure her other knee. He could feel her hand come to rest lightly on the back of his neck, thumb rubbing small circles in the coarsely cropped hair.  
  
She was right, as usual. It did feel good to surrender. After several long minutes, he heard the water begin to boil, and he sat up. Her hand slipped from behind his head, moving to the side of his face. He took a deep breath, fortifying himself, as he leaned into her hand, looking up at her.  
  
“So a drawer huh?”  
  
A slow smile bloomed across her face and she nodded.  
  
“Yeah, I think that sounds perfect.”

 

Fin.


End file.
